


Seed And Grain

by wilyasha



Series: King and Queen of the Underworld [5]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Manipulation, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Obsessive Behavior, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 17:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14061618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilyasha/pseuds/wilyasha
Summary: Persephone smiles into her mother’s hand, sharp teeth nipping the calloused fingers.





	Seed And Grain

**Author's Note:**

> The long-awaited and messy conclusion to a project that I originally started back in 2012. Most of part five was written in 2015, so please excuse the overall convoluted Persephone character study. Just to play it safe, I also added the incest tag. Because y'know, they're gods and shit happens.

A war occurs mere weeks after her meeting with Thanatos. The Titans break their chains, chaos erupting across worlds. Just as primordial and ancient as their ancestors. Just as ravenous as their descendants. They wish to rule again and have mortals bow to them. To voraciously consume their tender bodies. But once again, a brotherly bond has forced them back within their prisons.

The war is over as quickly as it had started. And Hades is tired when he returns to her. 

“Do you need anything?” Persephone asks, tucking her weary husband beneath soft sheets. 

He says nothing, only strokes her hair before turning away to rest his eyes. 

\--

Persephone feels the archaic fire fill her palms; it reminds her of the warmth in her mother’s embraces.

“You have to protect the fire, caress it until it bends to your will.” Eris’ fingers graze the orange heat. A flame licks up Persephone’s arm as if it’s feeding on the mayhem of Eris’ energy. 

“I could do it better if you wouldn’t distract me,” Persephone says sarcastically. She coaxes the fire, easing the flame back down her arm until it slowly swirls between her hands and then glows blue. The air in the sitting room is arid with only the sheer black drapes shielding them from view. Persephone’s gaze flickers over Eris. “Where did you learn all this?”

A slow smirk pulls at Eris’ lips. Once again, she caresses the flame, pulling it until it follows her lead. Persephone lets the fire go into Eris’ hands. She wipes the ashy residue on the skirts of her gown. 

Persephone watches as Eris allows the flame to grow before tossing it into the hearth. It crackles and pops, the sister-cousins watching as it projects dancing shadowy figures on the walls. 

“Will you ever answer me?” Persephone asks. 

Eris smirks again before leaning back on the chaise. 

“ _There is a boy from a far-away place,_ ” she sing-songs. “ _With long red hair and green eyes. He occasionally leads a life of disgrace, with all of his deceit and lies._ Riddles and guise… deceit and lies? Which one do you think sounds better?”

\-- 

“Can we see the Titans today?” Eris asks, eager as ever for something exciting to happen. She has a childlike quality about her that is unseen in their other sister-cousins. She is adventurous and scandalous and likes to toy with the people she meets. 

“I suppose you can,” Persephone murmurs. She sits at her husband’s desk going over parchments filled with names and dates, all those who were lost in the war, all those ready for the afterlife. 

“But will _you_ join me?” she inquires softly, her eyes pleading as she wrings her hands this way and that. 

Persephone glances up. Eris looks smaller in the candlelight. The edges of her face are shrouded in black, but her eyes are a vibrant tawny.

“I will see. There is much to be done while Hades sleeps,” Persephone answers. She stills at the look on Eris’ face. 

Her chin wobbles, her forehead creases, and her eyes narrow to slits.

“You ask me to visit, but now you leave me alone to do nothing,” Eris remarks. Her already deep voice has gone down an octave, smoky and cloudy with anger. 

“Yes, well some of us have responsibilities,” Persephone answers, brusquely. She turns back to the piles of parchment. 

Eris stomps out of the chamber like a petulant child and yet Persephone can still hear her sister’s teeth grinding together from rooms away. 

\--

Persephone feels guilty for the remainder of the evening. She didn’t mean to dismiss her faithful companion, but the work had been piling up. And it would do no good for Hades to awaken and not only have to deal with paperwork, but also know Eris had been in his home against his orders. 

But now the work is done, and she can spend some more moments with the other goddess before her beloved husband wakes. 

She rounds the corner of a corridor, but hears voices speaking and comes to a halt. 

“I told you _no_ ,” says a deep voice. _Thanatos._

“ _Please_ ,” says a cooing voice. _Eris._

“No,” Thanatos says again.

Persephone peers around the corner to look in the adjacent hall. Thanatos sits at the dining table in her husband’s seat. He’s shrouded in smoke, his jagged teeth glimmering. Eris rests in front of him, displaying herself like some succulent roast. His fingers are tangled in her wavy hair, as if they were caught in the halo of dark coils while petting her.

Warmth fills the pit of her belly as Thanatos’ monstrous hand slides beneath gauzy fabric and grips Eris’ thigh. Purple bruises unfurl like rose blossoms across her skin. His fingers leave deep grooves behind. His hand doesn’t have time to withdraw as Eris’ thighs close around his wrist, pulling him back to the heat between her legs. 

Persephone’s heart jumps beneath her chest. Her body feels overheated, tender and panicked. With one more glance, she rushes through the halls and throws the doors open to their shared bedchambers. Hastily grabbing at the skirts of her own gown, the dark queen throws herself against her husband’s supine, sleeping form. She quickly coaxes him to harden between her hands and she doesn’t hesitate to spear herself open upon him. 

In the distance, she hears Eris’ throaty laugh. 

\--

“She’ll drive you mad,” Thanatos says, “if you let her.”

They take a long stroll by the bank of the Styx on one foggy, humid morning. She wears a gown of yellow asphodel. She can taste the blossoms and insects in the air. Spring is coming soon and she will have to leave. And yet, Hades still does not wake and Eris does not leave.

“She’s observant,” Thanatos continues. “She’s started wars because she knows everyone’s weaknesses and vices. She’s become friends with tricksters from across every pantheon. Eris knows what she is doing.”

Persephone clenches her teeth together, grinding until she bites her tongue and tastes sweetened ichor. 

“I don’t want to leave,” Persephone whimpers.

“You must,” Thanatos remarks with his teeth bared. “Cling close to your mother’s skirts, girl. I will care for the Underworld while you are gone.”

He acts as if Hades will not wake even while she flits around the gilded halls of Olympus. 

Persephone kisses her husband on the lips and pats Cerberus on each of his three heads before leaving. 

\--

Demeter oils her hair for ten days, braiding it away from her face. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

Demeter hand feeds her figs and goat cheese, letting her suck on the tips of her fingers like she’s some feral and frightened animal. 

“What does he feed you?”

Persephone smiles into her mother’s hand, sharp teeth nipping the calloused fingers. There is dirt and pebbles lodged beneath the nails. Demeter has been gardening, nervously tending to her crops because Persephone arrived so late in the season. The soil tastes rich and pungent. So fertile.

“His seed,” Persephone murmurs. 

Demeter lurches back as if she were just thrown into a cauldron of scalding water. Her dark skin flushes, her hand snaking away from her daughter’s mouth.

“I will leave now.”

\--

Persephone wanders those gilded halls of Olympus. She ignores her sisters’ pleas to join them. She oils her hair on her own, dresses herself in gowns of black and gold. No nymph dares to take care of her needs. She eats on her own, like some salivating beast bent over her bowl. Her nails have grown so long, it’s almost impossible to clutch her goblet of ambrosia. She will not cut them until she is back in the Underworld. 

“He has turned her into a monster,” says a soft voice. _Demeter._

“I am sure you are overreacting,” says a harsh voice. _Hera._

“I am not,” Persephone’s mother wails. “My daughter is cruel and arrogant and unashamed of what she has become.”

“It is the way of queens,” Hera remarks. “We must be sharper than our counterparts, for they are weak.”

Annoyance is so evident in her tone. How long has Demeter bothered Hera with this obsession? 

“What has he turned her into, my sister?” Demeter cries. Persephone observes from the shadows as the goddess of the harvest throws herself upon Hera’s lap. 

Malice dances in Hera’s eyes. Jealousy clouds over her face and Persephone cannot help but smile. 

“What would you have me do, sister-wife?” Hera asks, softly nosing at Demeter’s tear-stained face. “Would you have me kill our brother? Or would you like me to send Persephone to stay with Hestia? She could surely make her see sense.”

Demeter curls even closer to the warmth of Hera’s heaving breasts.

“Or perhaps, sister dearest,” Hera’s hands dig deep into the softness of Demeter’s body. “Perhaps the girl has always had that cruelty boiling up inside her. Perhaps you were too ashamed to admit that you are just as cruel and smothering as all the rest of us. Your daughter is no different than my sweet Eris.”

_She’ll drive you mad if you let her._

Persephone’s stomach roils with the rage of one thousand stars. She sees dazzling constellations in her mind’s eye. From across the room, Hera looks over at the young queen before leaning in to sweetly kiss Demeter on her salty lips.

\--

Persephone returns to the Underworld just before the first early snowfall. Hades still rests in bed when Persephone slips in beside him. 

“Is she gone?” he asks, stirring awake. 

“Have you been pretending to sleep all this time?” Persephone’s eyes brighten. 

“I’d rather avoid Eris while I can,” he chuckles, yanking her body closer. Hades’ lips tease at her earlobe, his nose dragging over the damp skin of her neck. “She’s bound to get into trouble soon.”

The room is silent except for their light breathing. 

“Everyone on Olympus acts as if I’ve gone mad,” she says, finally uttering the words she has wanted to spill ever since marrying this soft-spoken man. “They look at me like I’m some serpent preparing to strike. Hera seems to be the only one who has argued on my behalf.”

“Hera often knows more than she lets on,” Hades sighs. “She may be ruled by anger and jealousy, and she may often be cruel. But can one blame her? She is married to our depraved brother.” 

A pause.

“But you and I…” Persephone begins, her voice too soft. “You and I know each other. You know my rage and I know your silence. You know what I want and I know what you need. Is that not how it should be?”

“Mortals would know that as understanding, not love,” Hades quips. 

“But I love you,” Persephone says, ignoring his barbed joke. “I have freedom and solace when I’m with you.”


End file.
